


Of Wind and Earth

by coatlicue



Series: Elements [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Orphanage, Angst, F/F, Faberry, Skank Quinn Fabray
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-18
Packaged: 2018-10-20 17:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coatlicue/pseuds/coatlicue
Summary: "Her heart pounds in her chest and she almost slips on the last stair at the fault of a crayon box that lies at the edge of the step. She feels a light pressure on her arm that is holding her up, and she looks up to find deep brown eyes staring quietly at her, the girl isn’t from here, that’s for sure. She has the optimistic twinkle in her eyes that most of the kids in the home lost a long time ago."Or, Quinn is an orphan and Rachel’s dads adopt her.





	Of Wind and Earth

Quinn Fabray is an orphan. 

Boo-hoo how sad, it's the same old tired script of a play we’ve all already read. The home is awful, so many kids that they’re cramped into every space imaginable. Trying to sleep on the mattresses that they put out is exhausting, the ever present pain of on her lower back from trying to get off them even worse. The bright blue wallpaper on the walls peels at every corner, the owners’ attempts to make it seem joyful were taken in vain, the smell of adolescent sweat and dirt on children’s bare feet is something that she has grown accustomed to.

It’s okay though, the kids are loud and obnoxious, and the teens are involved in every gang imaginable in Columbus, Ohio, and the owners and caregivers are tired old ladies who were nice enough to the little kids but had given up on most of the older ones. The bottom floor is the nicest, the one where the babies and little kids sleep, on that floor the stench of baby powder and the sound of children’s feet tapping quietly against the carpet is the only thing that’s heard. The second floor is where the smell of awkward preteen sweat comes in, the sound of children who have only just now realized that they do not belong in this world radiated from the walls in the form of loud music. 

The top floor, that is where Quinn Fabray lies, the smell of nicotine is prominent as she nurses a cigarette in between her lips, she twists a strand of cotton candy pink hair between her fingertips, and her feet are kicked up on the bedpost, the black boots on her feet digging into the bright wall. There are three other teens living in the room with her, two of which she hadn’t bothered to learn the first names of. They never stuck around for long, but Quinn has been there for three years. Nobody took a second look at her when they came in and saw her bright pink hair and smelled the nicotine wafting from her clothes. Fine by her, the home is a lot better than having to live with a newlywed couple who “just wants to help.”

Julia—maybe, is painting her fingernails black. The smell of nail polish is aggravating, and it’s giving her a headache.

“Goddammit, Julia, can you please go do that somewhere else?” Quinn snaps and glares at her until the redhead glances up and glares back. Quinn turns herself so her legs are dangling over the edge of the side of the bed and her back is pressed against the backboard of the bed.

“My name is Jules.” She says and puts the cap on the nail polish as she begins to blow on the tips of her nails. The sound of heels clacking against the hardwood echoes through their room, and they both turn their heads to see a head of black hair pop in. The Latina walks in the room and plops herself down next to Quinn, she drapes her legs over Quinn’s lap and lies on one of the pillows. Santana had been here longer than she had, and she was perhaps the only friend Quinn had.

“Buchter says to get ready, some couple is going to come here and they’re thinking about adopting. She said that if we pull any shit again she’s gonna have us on diaper duty for the next month.” Santana looks at Quinn and shrugs.

“Oh, last time was hilarious, it’s not our fault the sisters have sticks shoved so far up their butts they can’t have a sense of humor. Anyways, why do we have to get ready? Isn’t there a kid that just turned one, that’s usually the age they want them.” Quinn looks back at Santana’s face and sees the quiet expression that many of the kids in the home wear, masks of indifference to hide the tornadoes that are set rampant inside them.

“Nah, they don’t want any babies, they’re lookin’ for a teenager.” Santana says, a crease forms between her eyebrows and a pensive look plays across her face.

“Why?” Quinn laughs, “One look at us and they’ll be running for their lives. They’re not gonna find a kid here.”

“I don’t know Lucy, people are getting pretty desperate. If I get screamed at any more by the sisters I swear to god, I would be willing to turn into a cheerleader at some preppy high school in order to get out of here. Couples like them don’t seem like they’d bug you much anyways, middle-aged married men who have no way of knowing how to deal with the problems of today’s troubled teen.” 

“Wait, you’re seriously considering this?” Quinn feels a pang in her chest at somebody else leaving her, because all Quinn has ever known is goodbye. Santana had been one of the only things that had been a constant in Quinn’s life, never ceasing and hardly changing. If she left, then Quinn would truly be alone. 

“What choice do I have? It’s either this or I stay here until I turn eighteen and then get locked up in a prison for some shit I didn’t do. I’m screwed either way.” There is a quiet sadness in Santana’s eyes, a window of rain hiding the movement of the seas.

“But Santana…” Quinn sighs, she swallows the lump in her throat when she sees Jules staring intently at her, her gaze scrutinizing and her eyes judging. “Okay.” She lets the whisper fall almost silently past her lips, Santana reaches out and squeezes Quinn’s shoulder in a rare moment of affection, and Quinn lets a small smile graze upon her lips. 

\---

Quinn’s black boots are tucked into her torn jeans, she stares at herself in the mirror and sighs before turning away from her reflection as she begins her descent down the stairs. She can hear the quiet commotion downstairs, the thundering of feet and the polite whispers of “nice to meet you” to the visitors. Her heart pounds in her chest and she almost slips on the last stair at the fault of a crayon box that lies at the edge of the step. She feels a light pressure on her arm that is holding her up, and she looks up to find deep brown eyes staring quietly at her, the girl isn’t from here, that’s for sure. She has the optimistic twinkle in her eyes that most of the kids in the home lost a long time ago.

“Hey, are you okay?” The girl says and Quinn finds herself lost in the light tremble of the melodies of her voice.

“Yeah, I’m—I’m okay.” Quinn instinctively reaches for a strand of pink hair and twists it in between her fingers. She turns around quickly and shakes her head, she sets out to find Santana and quickly forgets about the strange girl with deep brown eyes. She feels a light tap on her shoulder and turns around to find Santana behind her, looking more presentable than Quinn had ever seen her. Her black hair is held behind her ear and her hands are shaking slightly.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

“How’s it going with the couple?”

“Nah, they’re not gonna adopt me. Didn’t even look at me twice. Looks like I’ll be stuck here ‘till I turn eighteen,” Santana sighs lightly and then looks again at Quinn. Quinn refrains from the need to hug her, they aren’t that kind of friends and they probably never will be. It’s just the way that things are, the way that they always have been, but if they weren’t that way then Quinn would just about tell her that she is the best not-friend she’s ever had.

Quinn turns and sees the brunette from before and two older men staring at her and Santana while talking quickly and quietly.

“What’s going on with them?” She asks Santana.

“They’re the couple that’s adopting and the brown haired kid’s their daughter. Our age, I think—” Santana is cut off by footsteps approaching them.

“Hello, I’m Leroy, and this is my husband Hiram and our daughter Rachel. We’d like to talk to you, uh, with the pink hair about adopting.” Quinn turns toward Santana and sees the slight disappointed look that others would have easily failed to notice. The thought of leaving her to fend for herself in this kid-infested nightmare leaves her stomach feeling twisty and guilt creeps into her throat. She lightly shakes her head and begins to open her mouth to tell them that she’s not interested before she feels a hand on her arm. Santana grabs her arms and pulls her aside, quietly turning towards Hiram and Leroy and telling them that they’ll be right back.

“You have to go, Quinn.” Santana says simply and glances back at Hiram and Leroy who are whispering quickly with Rachel.

“I can’t—I—I don’t even want to go,” Quinn lies compulsively and shakes her head quickly.

“That’s bullshit, just go. I have some peroxide back in my room with your name on it. You’ll be out of here in a week. Two, tops.” Santana turns back and glances at Leroy and Hiram who are staring at them intently.

“But…you…” Guilt is seeping into Quinn’s chest, and she can’t help but wonder what they see in her that they didn’t see in Santana. 

“I’ll be okay, Q. Don’t even worry about it, I’ve got thick skin. Plus, you wouldn’t dare to leave and not visit, would you?” It is Santana’s way of a treaty, her way of saying “I love you and I’ll miss you and you’d better visit me” without actually saying it.

“Of course not. Although I will have to take you up on that peroxide, the pink is starting to bug me to no end.” Quinn twists a strand of dry hair between her fingertips and smiles softly at Santana before glancing quickly at the couple and their daughter that stands a few feet away from them.

“Alright, I guess you should go back and talk to your new dads, then. I’m just gonna go hang with ‘Cedes for a little bit, see you.” Santana squeezes Quinn’s shoulder and walks away.

“Okay.” Quinn stares at the space where Santana had been and turns away from it. She walks slowly back to the Berry family, the sound of her footsteps highlight the fact that she is walking away from everything she has ever known to be true.

\--- 

Two weeks later, Quinn stares at the lonesome suitcase in her hand. She stands at the doorway and twists a strand of blonde hair in between her fingertips, the nervousness builds up inside her until she is sure that she cannot go through with it, that she cannot leave the only place she has ever dared to call a home. She walks onto the hardwood of the hallway, the sound of the heel of her boot clacking against the wood echoes around the hallway. It is emptier than Quinn has seen it in a while, everyone else is downstairs waiting for her.

Time seems to slow down as she walks down the stairs, the rest of the kids in the home cheer when she walks down. They were kind of their own little family, not by choice but by need, and it hadn’t hit her until she is about to leave how good she had it with them. She sees her new family by the door, they wait for her with loving eyes, both Hiram and Leroy seem nice enough, but it isn’t them who really made an impression on her.

The girl—their daughter, with bright chocolate eyes and a loud dignity, was the one that drew her in. There was something about her, something that Quinn can’t exactly put her finger on, but god she’s beautiful. They had bonded with silent moments, quiet exchanges of feelings and no actual words. She wonders what the punishment would be for having a crush on her new sister. 

Quinn catches eyes on her, in a black dress that flares at the waist. Her breath catches in her throat and everyone else sees it as her getting choked up about leaving, and they awe loudly as she clutches the handle of the suitcase. She doesn’t know half of their names, and now she probably never will. She feels a strange sort of guilt because she is leaving them behind, and they’ll still be there, stuck in the home she despised for the better part of three years.

She doesn’t say anything, Leroy looks at his watch, and they need to be back in Lima, Ohio by four to enroll her in school there. She silently walks over to Hiram and hands him her suitcase, she turns back to the kids who still stand in the lobby, there’s only a few kids she talked to and the little kids, everyone else has slinked back to their respective rooms, probably to mope. She turns to Santana who is trying to discreetly wipe away a tear that has gathered in her eye.

Quinn walks up to her and wraps her arms tightly around her torso in the first hug that the girls have ever shared. Her heart breaks a little for her only friend, who has to stay in the home and will probably have to for a long time. There is a mutual need for survival between the two of them, a quiet show of affection and trust that has been built by years of banding together by need.

“Bye, San.” Quinn detached herself from Santana and tried to keep her voice from quivering.

“Later, Q. Don’t be a stranger, okay?” Santana’s voice was low and rough, a telltale sign that she wanted to cry.

“Of course not.” Quinn says and turns away from the only life she has ever known. 

\---

Quinn sits in her new bed, a bright white and pink nightmare of a room lies before her. She nurses a cigarette between her lips, although she knows she should probably kick the habit, she can’t bring herself to quit. When Hiram and Leroy first showed the room to her, they only lightly shook their heads and muttered something about Rachel and her glitter. They had handed her a credit card and told her that she could change it as she liked, but after hearing that it was from Rachel, she had begun to fall in love with it.

As if reading her mind, three prompt knows sound on the door and Quinn looks for a way to hide her cigarette, but the smell of it wafts in the air and she has no way to hide it. The door opens quickly and Rachel’s eyes catch sight of the cigarette dangling between her lips. Her eyes look slightly disappointed but she doesn’t mention anything, she sits next to Quinn and speaks slowly,

“You really should quit that…You know that I made my dads bring you home, right?” Rachel says, and Quinn just looks at her and brings one of her eyebrows up.

“They were thinking about another girl, the redhead, but when I saw you I knew that I wanted you to come home. When they said that they were thinking about the redhead I freaked out a little because I thought that meant I would never see you again.” Quinn’s heart beats faster and Rachel sits next to her and stares at the place in her hand where the cigarette had wrapped around her fingers. There is a strange serenity in between the two girls, a quiet dignity in the sounds of two beating hearts.

Rachel moves toward her and grabs a fistful of blonde hair, she brings her body closer to Quinn’s and her lips move quickly against Quinn’s. Rachel’s lips are sweet, they taste like vanilla and lip balm.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into, Rachel.” Quinn says, because a girl like Quinn could not possibly be good for a girl like Rachel. She isn’t a bag in the wind because she’s fun, she’s damaged and dangerous. She’s a grenade, and she’ll hurt everyone she touches if she isn’t careful.

“Maybe not…but well…you’re worth it.” Quinn wanted to yell at her that she wasn’t, that she was damaged beyond repair and that she could be hurt any minute, but in another moment Rachel’s lips were pressed against her’s and the taste of vanilla was too much to bear.


End file.
